Greetings to all
who asked to be on this list, and if you don’t want to be on it, just e-mail
and tell me. For those of you who have sailed, some of this will be familiar,
and for those of you who haven’t, most of it will not.

No sign of
pirates yet. We are about to pull into Norfolk, VA, after leaving Newark, NJ, on
Tues, and having stopped at Charleston, SC, and Savannah, GA, this past week. Less
then 24 hrs in each port, enough to offload and load cargo and ship’s stores. Seas
have been calm, winds fair. The Jackson is a
container ship, 906 feet long. Everything as to engines and machinery is
working, the food’s OK, and we all still like each other.

The crew is a
mix of Philippino Americans, Hispanic Americans, African Americans, Arab
Americans, and us Poor White Trash Americans. The US Merchant Marine has always
been diverse; think of Queequeg and what’s their faces the black guy and the
Indian in Moby Dick. [Daggoo and
Tashtego] We get along better on ships than some of our counterparts on land,
because we have a job to do and everyone has to pull together to get it done.

There’s also the
little matter of survival. We have to fight fires, abandon ship, and/or secure
the ship against pirates if necessary, and we have to look out for each other
in what is also normally a dangerous environment, with trip hazards on deck,
the ship’s rolling in nasty weather, and heavy machinery moving heavy stuff around.
Getting along is more than desirable, it’s a necessity, and as such we give
serious time and effort to keeping it light, making jokes, finding out what
ticks off the other guy, and listening to her or him as a human being,
considering that we all can be tired out, hungry and sleep deprived. Divisive
behavior is not an option.

Rooms are roomy
enough, and are comparable to a medium price range hotel. Everyone has their
own head; on some ships two crew share a head between their rooms. This ship is
the first one I’ve been on where we have a swimming pool, but it is only about
10x 20 feet. Haven’t used it yet.

We monitor
Channel 16, the emergency radio channel, at all times, and are about fifty
miles offshore. Today there was one leaky sailboat taken in tow before it sank,
and a chopper rescue of a guy having a heart attack on another boat. If we’re
close enough to be of practical assistance, we help out, but these boats were
too far away.

Fair winds till
next time,

Wendy

5/11/10

39° 15’ N.

63° 16’ W.

North Atlantic Ocean

Course: 077°

Speed: 20.53 kt.

I was out among
the containers tightening lashings today—fifteen to thirty feet up on the
catwalks between the rows of containers, making sure the big turnbuckles were
secured tightly. The vibrations from the engine and the rolling of the ship can
loosen them, and the stevedores sometimes leave out that last twist to make the
turnbuckle nuts tight. We have over a thousand containers aboard, but the ones
on deck are only secured to the deck up to the second or third container; above
that they simply fit into each other like Legos at the corners. We stay away
from weather that would cause the ship to roll enough to make them fall off.

There’s a nice
breeze up there, but it’s not like being up in the rigging on the Lady Washington.

After you get
off the deck and wash off all the grease, it’s almost like being on a cruise
ship, looking out the window at the sea from your nice clean cabin. Clocks went
ahead an hour last night and will go ahead another hour tonight. Going to watch
on the bridge now.

5/12/10

Sea salt is
great for the skin. I highly recommend it. Everyone should have at least one
skin. Did deck washdown today; we pump sea water up through the fire hose
system for that, but had to wait a few minutes for full pressure, so I’m
standing there sort of like I’m watering geraniums or my lettuce with a little
trickle. Don’t know if my carrots back home have come up yet.

After
we got out to sea from Norfolk,
we got a distress call relayed from the Coast Guard. A guy in a little sailboat
was wandering about, with half a sail up, no power, and he was “delusional,”
apparently not knowing where he was. Might have been insulin meltdown. We were
first on the scene, but another ship showed up with a small rescue boat, so as
a Coastie C-130 circled overhead and a chopper was en route, they sent the
rescue boat over. The sailboat guy refused to leave his boat, and the rescue
guy got seasick, not being used to the little rescue boat after being on his
big ship. We were allowed to leave the scene then, so after a fifty mile detour
and a couple of hours delay, we got underway again. Never did find out what
happened to the guy in the sailboat.

******************E-mail sent
5/8/10*****************

5/13/10

Saw a sea bird
today. Getting close to the Azores.

5/14/10

40° 26’ N.

32° 35’ W.

19.97 kt.

Course: 097°

North Atlantic,
about 60 miles NW of the Azores.

Living in such
close quarters is kind of like instant family; the deck and engine depts. share
a laundry room, and everyone knows what size underwear you wear. The persons
you Must Get Along With are the Chief Steward, Cook, and Steward’s Assistant;
they feed you. Getting along with the Bosun and the Mate is also good.

The bridge is
about 40 x 25 feet, with one large console for the electrical gear, alarms, navigation
lights, compass readout, rate of turn gauge, and the wheel, and another console
for the radar screens, computer chart readout, and the throttles. My watch
chair is to one side of the wheel; we always stand when we’re steering
manually, and can sit when we’re not steering. It is only a high wooden chair
with seat padding, but the first time I sat in it, I felt like Capt. Kirk and
wanted to say, “Engage.”

We discuss
pirate attack the same way you’d talk about bad traffic on the freeway. The
ship has numerous barriers and obstacles to prevent pirates from successfully
storming the ship, and you will understand if I don’t tell you what they are. We
did one pirate drill, which essentially is to circle the wagons and wait for
the cavalry. At the PA announcement, “Alamo, Alamo, Alamo,”
we go to a secure room, and I’m not saying where that is either, with extra
food, water, and a radio, and call the nearest coalition warship. Somebody aboard
wondered why they chose a call word to get us to safety from a battle where
everybody died.

Too many
liability issues if we shoot back ourselves, though many would like to. I’d
love to get one of the Lady Washington’s
cannon off at them. We are trying to get Uncle Sam to give us, the US flagged commercial
ships, a military unit aboard for protection, as the Military Sealift Command
ships have (they are military cargo ships owned by the Navy but crewed by
civilians). There is a Natl. Guard unit on those ships; during WWII the civilian
Liberty ships
that delivered cargo carried Naval Armed Guard units. If the war on terror is
truly a war, shouldn’t we have the necessary protection against terrorists? The
shipping companies don’t want to spend the money for armed private security
units.

But pirates are
nothing compared to what my dad went through in WWII; he had one ship torpedoed
out from under him before Pearl Harbor, then on the Murmansk Run in ’42 he ran
a 24/7 gauntlet against mines, submarines, air attack and icebergs. He came
through all without a scratch. I have his Merchant Marine dogtag from then, and
figure if that doesn’t bring us luck, nothing will.

Saw another
seabird. NW Seaport Shanty Sing is tonight.

*********************Sent
5/14/10********************

5/15/10

Today’s the Preakness, and I don’t know that we’ll have a
Triple Crown possibility this year. We get e-versions of news from the NY Times
and a couple of other sources, so I can stay up on the baseball standings. Not
like the old days where you just disappeared for a couple of years, whaling.
When wireless came along you had some contact with the rest of the world; if
the atmospherics were right you could transmit and receive quite a ways. Once a
boat my dad was on in the 30’s in the South Atlantic
picked up a Brooklyn Dodgers broadcast. He was a wireless operator and a Brooklyn boy, and would have been happy as a clam, except
dem bums lost.

While still stateside, one of the crew was taking a shower
with the door from the head to his room open, and the steam heat from the
shower set off the ship-wide fire alarm. Nice to know the alarms are that
sensitive, but the engineers turned his down a bit so he can shower without a
ruckus. We all reported to our fire stations anyway, till told to stand down.

Yesterday we did fire and abandon ship drill, and I was one
of the ones to suit up in full firefighting gear and go through hatches and up
and down ladders to where the “fire” was. At 5’4” and 110 lbs, some of the guys
give me looks when I get all that gear on, but I’ve always done well in fire
fighting classes and have never fallen down or stubbed my toe. I can fit into
smaller places, too. In fact, four of the six deck crew are on the small side. We
tried to see if two of us could fit into one Jumbo sized survival suit, but
that didn’t work.

The engineers have been having no luck in getting the pool
heater to work, so it looks like we’re going to have to wait till the Red Sea
and Indian Oceanheat it up for us. I told the Bosun that, since the Deck Dept. is
responsible for the safety of all things on deck, and the swimming pool is on
deck, we should be the first ones to test the water, to make sure it is not too
hot or too cold. Full immersion would be the best option. Waiting for word on
when.

*************************Sent
5/16/10******************

5/16/10

Mom’s birthday. She would have been 88. Father, Son and Holy
Spirit. Seeing emeralds within, her stone.

One of the Mideast-born guys aboard wanted to know if we
could buy a live goat ashore in one of our Mideast
ports, bring it aboard and butcher and barbecue it. The Capt. said no.

Pity.

An Incident on the
Bridge

The
AB on lookout watch paced the bridge with a grim tread. The ship had been
violated, its territorial sovereignty broken, and the culprit, though not in
sight, was near. Very near. The AB wished the engine vibrations and air
conditioning vents were quieter; it might be possible to hear the invader then.

Lethal
though it was, the weapon in the AB’s hand felt flimsy, inadequate. Would it have
the necessary force to vanquish the foe when called upon?

A
high-pitched whine hit the AB’s ear, and with sure motion, the weapon was
brought to bear upon the fast moving victim, who had momentarily paused on the
counter. That was his undoing; the smack of the weapon’s impact resounded
through the bridge. Stooping a bit, the AB removed what was left of the fly
from the fly swatter, and deposited it in the “Burnable Trash” can.

Passed through the Straits of
Gibraltar about 3 pm. Ah, Molly Bloom’s words from Joyce’s Ulysses: “Gibraltar as a girl
where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair” Wonder where the British fort was exactly?

I finally saw the Rock; it was
fogged in when I first came through in 2004. From the west it looks like a sea
slug, crowned with a can opener on the north side and the famous promontory on
the south. The bottom part looks like the old Art Deco ferry Kalakala pushing
up a bow wave. Colors on both the Spanish and Moroccan side —light cream and faded
olive— are similar to southern California, but the hills and ridges of both
continents are sharper, more like the mountain shapes in Washington State. Wish
I could get down to Casablanca.
I’d go to Rick’s.

Could somebody sing the following
at the next shanty sing? Thanks.

Little
(Container Ship) Boxes

After
Malvina Reynolds’ “Little Boxes”

Little boxes on the deck top

Little boxes full of flip flops

And they’re stacked up on the
deck top

And they all sorta look the same

Chorus: There’s a rust one, and a blue one

And a blue one, and a rust one

And they’re stacked up on the
deck top

And they all sorta look the same

And the boxes with the Haz-Mats

Are stacked way far forward

Cause the Haz-Mats might go
boom-boom

And we don’t like that at all

And the reefers with the frozen
fish

Are stacked up by the deck house

So the cook can steal the fishies

And make us bouillabaisse

When the big waves hit the boxes

They fall off in the ocean

And they’re taking all the flip
flops

To the folks in Davy Jones’

Chorus

And the pirates like the big
boats

So they sail up in their little
boats

And they try to take the big
boats

But we shoot them in the head

And the big ship sails the ocean

And it’s taking all the boxes

All the boxes full of flip flops

To a Wal Mart nearest you

Chorus

********************Sent
5/18/10******************

36° 56.5’ N.

001° 35” E.

Course: 083°

Speed: 17.92 kt

Wind E, Beaufort Force
5

Sea E, Beaufort Force
2

We crossed the Greenwich line earlier today, and are now in the Eastern Hemisphere. Algeria
is visible to the south, but Spain
has vanished. Algeria
looks a bit like Catalina from LA; from where we were during my watch, there
was even a part that looked like the Isthmus.

“Good Morning” and
“Have a good watch” are not just polite pleasantries here, they are a
necessity. You have to always try to have good relations with everyone aboard,
and that includes remembering to tell the cook how good the stuffed cabbage
was. Let that sort of thing slip and you soon start being nasty to each other.

We’ll be heading past
the shores of Tripoli soon; these are the waters
of the old Barbary Pirates, the Barbary Coast
itself, and I tried to get excited about it but it was too early in the
morning.

Bad news
from off of Cameroon, West Africa: The Northern
Star, a 7,000 ton ship, was attacked by pirates near midnight Monday night.
Twenty armed pirates in three boats came aboard, stole cash and computers,
smashed all the communication equipment on the bridge, and took the Capt. and
Chief Engineer with them as hostages when they left. No word on a ransom
demand. All the other crew are apparently safe. Don’t know what flag she was.

Watches
on a ship have been divided into three since Capt. Cook initiated it in the 18th
century. They are 12-4, 4-8, and 8-12. The Mates and the Watchstanding ABs
stand two bridge watches a day, so as the 8-12 WatchstandingAB,
mine are from 8 am to noon and 8 pm (20:00) to midnight (24:00). After lunch,
if there is additional work on deck to do, I work from 1-5 for four hours of
overtime. Yesterday there was OT, today there wasn’t. We will be changing out
the wires that haul the starboard gangway up and down tomorrow; yesterday we
did the port gangway. The Bosun and two Dayworker ABs work from 8-5 daily and
on weekends. Weekends are automatic OT for Dayworkers and Watchstanders.

I am
finally making a living.

*****************Sent
5/19/10****************

5/19/10

37° 19.5’ N.

011° 61’ E.

Course: 122°

Speed: 19.3 kt.

A good bridge
watch is one where there’s enough traffic to keep you busy, but not enough to
drive you batty. Last night on the 20:00 to 24:00 was a good watch.

We got a
report that a passenger on an Italian cruise ship was missing, perhaps fallen
overboard. We’re too far away to join the search. Right now we’re off Tunisia, though
no land’s in sight. Quite a bit of haze; visibility about 10 miles. Wonder if
the haze is from the Sahara or is just smog.
If smog, is it from ships or land?

Commercial
ships do not normally fly the flag of their country of registry while at sea;
the shipping companies are too cheap. With the wind and weather, we’d go
through two or three flags a voyage, and that costs money. So we only fly the
flag while in port. NOAA and Navy ships use proper flag etiquette and fly the
flag at sea, up at sunrise and down at sunset. To check a commercial ship’s
registry at sea, you have to be able to see the stern, where the ship’s name
and her home port are painted.

Passed the
south coast of Sicily
last night. Very pretty; small lights in bunches along the waterfront. No sign
of Mafia activity; no bodies floating by in the water, no fish wrapped in
newspaper.

Louie Louie

A fine big
container ship she sails the sea

I stand my
watch most constantly

The Mate
calls to ships that get in the way

Leave us
room so we can live today

Loading
containers, it is a job

Like putting
together a Rubic’s Cube

The heavy
ones go low and the light ones high

They pile
them up till they reach the sky

I drive my
ship to the port and then

We tie her
up and the voyage is ended

I take my
pay but it doesn’t last

Have to ship
out again real fast

5/20/10

35° 32’
N.

018° 38’
E.

Course:
106°

Speed:
16.1 kt.

Wind and
sea: Hardly any

Another
pirate drill today; the unfortunate news is that if we get attacked, the U.S. Coast
Guard (even though they’re not on the spot, their rules govern us) considers us
a federal crime scene, and that means a communications lockdown. We wouldn’t be
allowed to make a satellite phone call home, or use our cell phones if we’re
close enough to shore. Our families and friends would be in the dark until it
was all over. Crummy policy. Think I’ll write Senator Murray about it. I
believe she’s on the Transportation and/or Commerce committees, which include
us. This is the same line of reasoning that kept people fleeing Katrina from
taking their pets with them; officialdom trumps plain common sense human
decency. Even the people on United Flight #93 at least got to call home and say
goodbye.

When we
were in our safe room, I asked the Mate, “What happens if they penetrate here?”
It would be grab the nearest fire ax and go down fighting. We’ll be rigging
some surprises for our pirate friends next week. The good news is that we’re a
big ship and go fast. Pirates like small ships that go slow.

Once we’re
past Suez, I
won’t be giving our position anymore. You never know who might be hacking this.

5/22/10

The deck
dept. is not pleased with my four years off and forgetting nearly everything;
neither am I, but so far there’s been no damage to ship or cargo, and no injury
to anyone so I must be doing something right. Trust I’ll be an old hand again
by voyage’s end.

Port Said has an elegant
mosque, Sah-LEM (Peace), which looks a bit like a Moorish version of Dr. Seuss
illustrations. There are loudspeakers on the twin minarets so people can hear
the muezzin. There is even a small mosque within the dock area itself. With
little time ashore, I asked the cab driver to just drive me around, and for $20
got a pretty good tour of the city. No meter in the cab; you dicker for the
fee. The cab driver said he’d like to see me again. Ah, Egypt. The guys
come on to you as a matter of course. Is it because we’re Western women and
they can’t do that to the Egyptian ladies? Wore my head covering ashore, a wide
brimmed straw hat that looks rather chic, even more so when I’m not wearing my
grubbies.

Men walk
together, women walk together, but I only saw one man and woman with their kids
walking together. Most of the women wear traditional Arab dress, in very bright
colors. Don’t know about the construction standards—some apt. buildings looked
like they were literally ready to fall down.

Traffic
control is nearly non-existent (Beep! Beep!), and I forget the last time I rode
in a car without a seat belt—there weren’t any. Amazing that we didn’t run
anybody over. There is Kentucky Fried, Pizza Hut, Levi’s, and a street sweeper
man with a cart that looked liked something out of turn of the 19th-20th
century New York, with hand pushed brooms.

Vendors came
aboard the ship with tourist stuff, some of it very nice. I got a few things,
but didn’t buy any of the purses made of giraffe hide. The head vendor was an
Egyptian guy named Charley Brown. Weather warm, a bit humid, but breezy, a
little like Hawaii.

Did I
mention corruption? The “Customs Men” come aboard with no ID, pick up their
cigarette bribes, and leave. The Pilots must be bribed. The starving dogs and
cats don’t get any cigarettes or vodka; when I have a few scraps, I always feed
them. Poor things. Poor starving kitties. Jean Lafitte, my big black rascally
cat, better appreciate what he’s got.

And you
were slaves, “and I led you out of bondage in Egypt.” (Exodus) Slaved away in the
dumpster, had the bondage-to-the-tug line part when leaving, threw a last
minute vendor off the boat, politely, and headed on out for Suez. Four am and I’m going to bed. Up again
for bridge watch at 8.

5/23/10

Steered the
Suez Canal. Piece of cake. Narrower than the little
BeaumontRiver
in Texas and twists like the SheldtRiver
in Holland.
Little wind today. Looks like the Arabian Nights out there; passed the sports
complex where Egyptian athletes train for the Olympics. One way traffic only;
all boats heading south now. Don’t know when they change to north. Twelve hour
trip max at dead slow, seven knots. I’m doing nicely on counter steering to
meet the compass course. No complaints from the Captain or Pilot; this Pilot
seems to know his stuff a lot better than the Port Said Pilots, who I suspect
may have gotten their positions through bribery or family connections or both.

Plus it’s
Sunday, so all this steering is on overtime. Huzzah, me hearties! Can I go back
to bed now?

********************Sent
5/23/10*******************

____________________________________________________________

5/23/10

And comin’
out of da narrows, by da powers we had ourselves a convoy, aye, Maersk and Yang
Ming and us’ns, three more galleons ahead of the Maersk ship, couldn’t see who
wuz on point, but we’re a turnin’ da shaft at Dead Slow (they couldn’t ‘a chose
a better name den Go Slow An’ Yer Ded?) and all of us good lil’ scallywags is a
headin’ down to the ol’ Red Sea, down thar by whar ol’ Mose crossed wit da
chilluns o’ Israel, aye bejesus, an’ we be havin’ ourselves a celleberlation
thar fer sartin, wit da camp meetin’ preacher hollerin’ Holy Hallelujah, praise
be to da God ‘o Israel, da God o’ Abram an’ Isaac an’ Jacob, an’ if ye don’t do
whut John da Baptist and da good Lawd Jesus say, you be facin’ hellfire an’
damnation, so repent ye sinners an’ turn from yer evil ways and follow de Good
Lawd and do what He say, and you be singin’ wit de angels forevermore an’ Amen,
brothers an’ sisters, Amen! Shout Hallelujah, Amen!

OK,
somewhere in this pirate is an old time southern Baptist preacher. But
somewhere between the Med and the southern end of Egypt,
the Israelites crossed over to the Promised Land on dry land, whether it was
the Nile delta or the Red Sea, and the entrance to the Red Sea out of the Suez Canal is relatively shallow and has flat plains surrounding
it, giving easy access to a multitude. Might not it have happened here? Gave me
weird feelings.

5/25/10

So from
Club Med we’re now into Club Red. Rigged the fire hoses on the rails as counter
measures to pirates today. Found out via e-mail that my carrots have come up
and are doing well, and that both my kitties are being well cared for.
Yesterday AB Dustin got called up to the bridge for a special satellite phone
call from home. Usually that means it’s bad news, but it was his girlfriend,
who apparently was lonely and just wanted to talk to him. Ain’t that sweet? He
was a bit red in the face as he left the bridge, saying, ”I can’t believe she
did that.” It really was charming.

5/26/10

Out into
the Gulf of Aden. Commencing pirate watches
tonight. I’m on as rover on deck from 00:00 to 04:00, after my regular 20:00 to
24:00 watch. Watch out, bad guys, Bloody Wendy is waiting. Grabbing some sack
time so I’ll last through the night, then up again for my 08:00 to 12:00 watch.
One warship was nearby.

5/27/10

Off pirate
watches as of 09:00 this morning. Warm and very humid night, like New Orleans in July, but
clear and beautiful, with a nearly full moon. No pirates. Passed a convoy
heading the other way last night; about fifteen ships, with Coalition warship
escort. Saw what looked like a Coalition destroyer. Couldn’t see which flag she
was. Warships don’t show up on our AIS (Automatic Identification of Ships)
readout. That’s how we know an unidentified blip on the radar with the convoy
is a warship. Two looked like carriers. Nice to know they’re out there looking
out for us. We hear them announcing on the radio to contact them if we see any
illegal activity. Not sure which countries besides us and the Brits have
warships out here, but I had a really good feeling about them and want to send
all the crews Christmas cards with a thank you note.

Days are
still very hazy with what looks like desert dust from Africa and Arabia. Can’t be good for asthma. No land in sight since
yesterday, but we’re between Somalia
and Yemen.
One of the crew has a daughter in Dubai,
our next stop, and is eager to see her. Only a few hours there but we will have
shore leave.

Passed
the Sally Maersk going the other
direction, one of Maersk’s big girls; she and her sister ship Susan Maersk are too wide for the Panama
Canal, but I think they can fit through Suez.

*******************Sent
5/27/10*****************

5/28/10

Folklife starts in Seattle today. Wish I
could be there.

God be my anchor

Holy Spirit my speed

Christ’s hand on the tiller

And St. Peter to kvetch

Deck Sports=Fire and Abandon Ship
Drill today. The crew got a guided tour of the engine room from the First
Assistant Engineer. I love shaft alleys, watching the drive shaft go round.
Ours is about three feet in diameter. Thought it would be bigger for a
propeller for a ship this size.

Air and water temperature in the
90’s. Three fans and AC on the bridge and it’s still warm. All are tired.

Saw a ship’s name, Brillante Virtuoso, on the AIS last
night. Nice name for a ship or anything else.

The Chief Steward said he’s got
something special and hot for pirates in the galley. “Just send them down
here.”

5/29/10

Two more ships with good names: Easy Prosperi and Iron Butterfly, both tankers. Threaded the Staits of Hormuz today
and down to tie up at Jebel Ali, near Dubai.
There’s a good Seaman’s Mission
there with Internet access.

Overhearing a lot of interesting
radio traffic in the wee hours. Some of it sounds like 3 am SF Bay Area talk
radio, and that’s the English I hear. Suspect the other tongues are saying
similar stuff.

5/30/10

Didn’t get off the ship in Jebel
Ali but heard the Pilot say last night that the depression hurts even here in
the oil rich UAE (United
Arab Emirates). Their
palm-tree-out-in-the-water-shaped development is built, but no one is buying
units there. Interesting approach from the water; the entry lane is a narrow
channel marked by buoys, with a strong SW current running across it, and you
would think the pilot pick up place would be much sooner than it is. The
Captain conned us through most of the entrance channel, and there he stood,
with his binoculars, silhouetted in the bridge window and calling the compass
course or number of degrees to turn, absolutely in his element. And there I
was, on the helm, calling out in repeat his commands, and steering to the tenth
of a degree. Dead on it most of the time. Counter steered 5° to 7° against the
current. Captain said I did a good job.

The other deckies don’t think I’m
so good on deck as I am very rusty there, but I asked the Captain today and he
said I’m still employed. On to Karachi
tonight.

I used the proper term, “Small
vessel” when calling out a sighting, but the 2nd mate said with
feigned vexation, “Wendy, that’s a little boat.”

6/3/10

Didn’t get off the ship at Karachi but the birds on
the dock are immense. Not sure which kind they are; some looked like raptors.
Boats, 2nd Mate and I did the let go on the bow yesterday, Boats on
the winches, Mate calling the shots, and me humping lines all by me lonesome. A
couple of snags but got them cleared before turning into major foul-ups, and
all secured. About 100°, 90 per cent humidity.

******************Sent
6/2/10*****************

6/4/10

All quiet on bridge. No traffic,
clear, some clouds, mostly blue sky, small swell in a blue sea. There’s all the
crap and then sometimes you get a day like this.

6/5/10

Had a DIW (Dead in the Water)
alarm last night on my watch, about 23:30. I had just changed the autopilot to
150° and was waiting for the compass to swing to check the magnetic course
against it, when every alarm on the bridge went off, and we lost steering,
engines, gyro, everything. I stood by the helm till the Third Mate switched to
hand steering, then kept her on course as we went from about twenty knots down
to five, drifting without power. The Captain, Chief Engineer and First Engineer
all came up to the bridge, and got us underway again after a few minutes, but
they still don’t know exactly what went wrong.

I think it was just a fine old
lady’s way of saying, “I’ve been sturdy and true in the water for many years.
It is a bit warm out. I’d like to stop and rest my flippers a bit.”

Think a better way then all the
bells and whistles going off would be to have a female computer voice: “You
have had a malfunction. Please hang up and try again. Thank you.”

All quiet on watch today. When AB
Rhonda came in to do bridge sanitary, she pointed her finger at me and laughed,
“All right, Wendy, what did you do?” to cause the DIW. Swore I didn’t do anything
but she didn’t believe me.

A void, an empty space below decks
forward, filled with water yesterday and today the day workers were emptying it
and cleaning it out. Not sure where the water came from, the sea or a water
ballast tank. Saw a tidal chart for the shipyard in Singapore on the Chief Mate’s
office door. We may be going in there.

Just got a knock at the door. AB
Romy and the Chief Engineer were there, asking if the smoke alarm in my room
had gone off. I assured them it hadn’t, and there was no fire in my room.
Apparently the indicators on the bridge and engine control room said there was
a fire on this deck. Weird. Maybe we’ll spend more time in the shipyard.

Nobody will complain if we have to
stay in Singapore
a while, even if things are expensive and you get arrested if you litter or
spit on the sidewalk. Shore leave is shore leave, and it’s even nicer when it’s
not in a Third World country, where you don’t
have to worry about terrorists or drinking the water. In Karachi, Pakistan,
the security guards had AK-47’s and big, mean looking shotguns on the dock, and
I made it a point to be friendly with them, waving from the deck and smiling
when I was on gangway watch. Stand your watch and don’t get shot. That’s a good
watch.

6/7/10

Our #2 gyro compass went out at
09:00 this morning during my watch, and our steering went cattywampus without
the compass for a moment, then we put it in hand steering until the Captain
came up and switched to gyro #1, growling, “Piece ‘a shit.” Don’t know if
they’re going to get it repaired in Singapore
or have the mate on the APL ship Philippines take a
look; the Captain said he was good at fixing them, but as to the whereabouts of
the mate or the Philippines,
I haven’t a clue. If we do have to steer home by hand on magnetic, we can
switch the gyro dial by the wheel to indicate the magnetic compass heading
instead, so the helmsperson doesn’t have to look up at the magnetic reading
overhead, its standard position on most ships. That would save a lot of stiff
necks.

There was a rumor that instead of
spending any time in the shipyard, we might be leaving Singapore
earlier than scheduled (Rot!) but the Third Mate said this morning that it was
only a rumor. We’ll see.

We have no falling down drunks aboard at present, though one
AB was fired once for showing up smashed, and on another ship I was on, the
previous Chief Engineer lost his job for coming up to the bridge under the
influence and hitting the Captain in the jaw. Very unmannerly, particularly so
as this skipper was a fine and decent gentleman who knew his stuff ship-wise,
and could teach an AB a thing or two about steering; he took the wheel himself
once.

Shipping has cracked down on naughty chemicals and alcohol
since the Exxon Valdez in ‘89, and we are all subject to spot check urinalysis
as well as a required one if there is any accident aboard, plus the required
pre-employment one. I believe the official alcohol blood level limit now is
0.04. I’ve never failed a drug test and don’t plan to in the future.

We are allowed spirits aboard, though the options from the
slop chest are somewhat limited. The wines are Wal Mart specials, and would not
win any contests. I’m the only sailor I know who doesn’t drink beer, so the
others can have that, and the Dom Perignon will have to wait till I get ashore.

On the cruise ship I worked on in 2005, the crew had their
own bar, way below decks, far from the elegance of the passenger dining areas,
and the difference was something like that scene in Titanic; “Want to go to a real party?”

My shipmates include an experienced AB named Rhonda, who has
reverse pride in being pure white trash. She has a mouth like a whip and a
heart of gold. She collects discarded life rings from ships she has sailed on,
and hangs them on her wall at home. We were below decks in the void that had
filled with water, purely from condensation, and we were pumping it out. Really
filthy work. So at the end of the day, on the way out, I was about to cross a
catwalk and Rhonda said I would have to take the ladder down to the deck, cross
the deck, and then go up the ladder to the other side where the exit was. They
didn’t trust me on the catwalk, she said, as I was new on this ship. I politely
explained that I was an experienced tall ship sailor with plenty of time up in
the rigging and no fear of heights. She then gave me a ten minute lecture on
safety, while all this time I’m standing on a ladder twenty feet above the
deck, with no safety harness on, as the ship rolled back and forth.

It is sad to find out how limited a life some of the sailors
have had. One, in his forties I think, looks and sounds a bit like Yul Brynner,
but had never heard of him or seen The
King and I, and another, 29, had never heard of Lawrence of Arabia or seen
that movie. I am going to send them the movies when I get home. Some guys
really do spend all their shore time in bars, apparently.

*******************Sent
6/7/10****************

6/8/10

Saw a printout on the bridge this
morning that said a 7.5 earthquake had hit the same area that got trashed so
badly five years ago out here. We passed through those waters last night, but I
didn’t feel any notable swell or rise from a tsunami. At sea though, they say
you usually can’t feel anything as it’s too gradual to notice. Haven’t heard
any tsunami reports. Will check the papers in Singapore. English, Malay and
Chinese are all official languages there, so there will be an English paper.

More good ship names: Y.M. Great, Ever Useful, St. James Park,
and Front Hunter.

Saw a piece of driftwood on watch
that looked just like a miniature submarine; it had two pieces of wood that
stuck straight up, like the periscope and radio antenna, and for all the world
it might have been one of those Japanese mini-subs from WWII, maybe with a guy
80 or 90 years old in it, still thinking the war was on. Didn’t report it as a
sub; just called out, “Contact, two points to starboard.”

6/10/10

Got to Raffles Hotel; 19th
century British colonialism to the hilts, with white marble walkways and
balustrade upon balustraded stairways descending to meet each other. The on
site museum had a lot of info on her illustrious guests, and an old rickshaw, but
no sign of John Wayne or Sidney Greenstreet from the movie. I found a veranda
with round tables and wicker chairs, low and wing backed, the wicker a chestnut
color and elegantly woven, the seat cushions a forest green and chestnut
pattern. I sat in one and pretended to be Sidney Greenstreet: “Your tale is
intriguing. Alas, I am unable to assist you. Do have a pleasant time/enjoy your
stay in Singapore.”
Wine was $30 a glass. I passed.

Tonight I came back to the ship
with a sandwich from Subway, identical to the ones at home, down to the breads
(they also have 7-11 and McDonald’s), and saw a thin tuxedo black kitty, about
eight or nine months old, by the entrance to the Immigration building. Its
bones were very fine, like Asian people’s bones, and I wondered if cat food here
was more rice and fish based than US meat based cat foods. He looked
a bit like my Bijou at home, but with a more elongated face. It turned out the
kitty had two identical siblings crouched nearby, all ferally shy but hungry,
and I tore off some of my sandwich for them. I have fed starving cats in Venice, Crete, and now Singapore. My Jean Lafitte at home
thinks he’s a starving kitty, but he is delusional. You wouldn’t know it to
hear his piteous little kitten mew at mealtime, crying like a four week old when
Mommy leaves the litter, for all the world like a poor abandoned kitty who
hasn’t eaten for a month. Ha.

Before I could feed them the rest
of my sandwich, the Third Engineer, who had been putting down some highly
supercharged fluid, and had arrived back at the dock gate the same time I did,
started hollering if I wanted to go back to the ship I’d better come now. I
couldn’t see our #35 shuttle bus, but it turned out the Third had befriended a
dockworker with a car, and had called him for a ride. “We are brothers from one
mother!” the Third kept repeating as he drove, hitting the poor guy in the
shoulder each time. I put my hand between his and the shoulder, and pointed out
that the driver’s shifting arm might be in jeopardy if he continued, and without
a shifting arm we might not get back. I gave our good hearted friend, who had
obviously escorted more than one drunken sailor to his berth, a few dollars for
his trouble.

When we got to the ship, the Third
held out his hand to me like a courtly gentleman, and graciously assisted me up
the one step to the gangway. It’s the first time this trip anyone’s done
anything like that, and it was genuinely charming. He followed me up and
actually made it to the top without doing a Jack from Jack and Jill went up the
hill. I signed him in with an “X.” Didn’t see him again till this afternoon,
when he appeared to be OK.

6/11/10

Away from Singapore this
morning; I took her out leaving the dock. We got the gyro fixed here, so there
shouldn’t be any more alarms from it. Shouldn’t be.

Time line: Called at 02:30 for
03:00, got dressed and went down, but found it had been a mistake and call was
to be an hour later. Called at 03:30 for 04:00, did a trash sweep around the
deck, stowaway search up and down through the house, stood around and waited a
while. Up to the bridge to steer at 06:00. Relieved at 07:00. 07:45, back up to
the bridge for regular watch till 11:45. Did our deck sanitary 13:00 to 15:00.
Stand down. 20:00 to 24:00, regular watch. 00:00 to 04:00, pirate watch. Stand
down. Up again for regular watch at 08:00.

Night watch. Standing on
the starboard bridge wing, warm, dark sea green water below, like the ocean off
southern California,
a salt breeze up, and I thought, nowhere else I’d rather be! Halfway around the
world, dropping from exhaustion, in the middle of pirate waters!

Saw a flying fish zipping
away from the ship; first one I’ve ever seen. Haven’t seen any dolphins,
anywhere, and few birds either; this trip has been a disappointment as far as
bird watching goes.

******************Sent
6/12/10*****************

____________________________________________________________

6/14/10

One thing you don’t have
to worry about out here are bad hair days. Bad hair doesn’t matter much here,
only ashore.

6/15/10

Went ashore in Colombo, Sri
Lanka. Two guys took me on a tour of the
city in a little van for about $30. Their Thirty Years War is finally over, and
they’re going to have a victory/memorial parade this Friday the 18th.
Numerous soldiers still about on street corners, armed with shotguns and AK
47s. Taxis are little three wheeled golf carts. Bit of British colonialism in
some of the old buildings’ architecture. Saw a book on FDR driving by a
sidewalk bookstall. Passed a fine looking modern public library. Where there’s
books, there’s hope.

Fishermen came to the
boat with a chunk of tuna, shrimp and crabs in ice chests and plastic bags for
the Chief Steward to peruse for our mess; saw other fishermen on the street
carrying their catch between them, hung midships from their poles that they had
on their shoulders, one guy fore and one aft. Sengalese and Tamil spoken here;
I have neither one.

People extraordinarily
friendly, especially to us rich sailors off the container ships. Dogs all
seemed to be one breed of sandy hound; thought they were all clones. I put identification
wrist bands on the local workers who came aboard to work cleaning the engine
room, and some of these grown guys’ wrists were almost as thin as my own.

Gem sellers came aboard
with some fine looking stones, but the ones you can get ashore are cheaper.
Gems are a big industry here; star sapphires are excellent, as are the
amethysts.

The entrance to the Colombo harbor is the
narrowest I’ve ever taken the ship through; felt like we were going to scrape
the stone breakwater light towers on both port and starboard sides. Found out
it was 800 feet across; this seems fine and wide enough, as we are only 130
feet abeam, leaving more than a football field on each side. But we are also
900 feet long, and if the bow thruster or steering had gone cattywampus, we
could have racked ourselves up in the entrance. And those towers still seemed
awfully close.

Saw on the Internet at
the Seaman’s Mission here that Afghanistan has
a huge array of mineral wealth, newly discovered. This is fantastic; they will
not have to rely on the poppy industry any more. Hope they can mine the stuff
without totally destroying the environment.

Remembered a sign from Singapore:
“No Smoking. No Naked Lights.” No open flames, that is. Lights must remember to
be modest.

Also from Singapore: the
container cranes are the most unique I’ve seen yet. The unit that attaches to
the container has a contraption in the middle that looks like a cross between a
smokestack and the Tin Man’s hat. Vivo, the shopping mall near the docks, looks
like the Sidney Opera House under construction.

Leaving Colombo—Call out was 00:30 for 01:00, after a
long day and twenty minutes lying down but not sleeping. We stood to and
waited. And waited. Didn’t get away till about 05:00, off watch at 06:00.
Enough time to get cleaned up and lie down for another twenty minutes before bridge
watch at 07:45. Third Mate had had the same hours so we pulled down all the
window sun shades to spare our bloodshot eyes from the cheery morning light. No
OT today; everyone catching up on sleep.

Flash! Zombies Take Over
Ship!

Mindless maniacs sail
ship in great circle off the coast of Sri Lanka, as long dead creatures
rise up out of the sea, and with zombie riders, slosh ashore to steal popcorn
and spread green slime around! Stay tuned!

We’ll be going against
the sea and current all the way from Sri Lanka
through the Arabian Sea, and Red Sea to Suez,
and the forecast is for a considerable swell. But we are still turning from 85
to 90 rpms, and making 20-21 knots. We have already had several engine
overheating alarms on the bridge. The engineers are not going to be very happy.

One of our AB’s didn’t
know how many sheets a ream of paper was. Some of these guys don’t seem to have
gone to high school, let alone finished it.

Sailors are the most self
reliant, fix-it guys there are. They can handle any situation and come out on
top. I can’t help but think that if my salty old dad and a few merchant seamen
had been aboard United Flight #93, the plane would have landed safely, with the
terrorists tied up, ready for the authorities. And anything wrong with the
plane would have been fixed.

**********************Sent
6/19/10********************

6/18/10

My steel toed boots are
still giving me blisters. Guess they never will fit right. After the first
three days out, both heels were a pulpy mess. Know how orange juice has “No
Pulp, Some Pulp, and Lots of Pulp”? Well this was A Whole Lot of Pulp. Pretty
much wear my sneakers all the time now. Heels fine that way.

The
AB and the Uncommunicative Mate

AB. Contact,
two points to starboard.

Mate. Uhh.

AB. More
coffee, mate?

Mate. Uhh.

AB. Pirates
attacking astern!

Mate. Uhh.

6/19/10

Sat., 09:15. Off of Oman. Rough and
choppy, many whitecaps. 40 kt. wind on the bow, a little to port. White water
and spray over the forward port side; spray arcs up over the containers to
starboard, sun catches it and makes rainbows.

I thought nobody in their
right mind would be out in a small boat in this stuff. But then pirates aren’t
in their right minds.

Out here we sign off
radio calls to other ships with variants on “Thank you, and have a nice
watch/safe voyage/good trip.” But out here we mean it. Things can go from nice
to nasty pretty fast.

One of the deckies
evidently drank the water in Colombo
(dumb), and has been out with a dysenteric sort of tummy since this past
midnight. The dayworkers are splitting his watch between them. A bit awkward.

After dark. Lots of ships
out tonight, most headed for Suez.
They were all cranking, as these are pirate waters but we were cranking too,
and slowly passed everyone else.

02:30. It was a very warm
night/early morning on pirate watch, and I was on roving patrol on deck. We
carry a hand held supercharged searchlight known as the Ronnie Ray-Gun, after
the late president, and I was also armed with a radio, a knife, a Leatherman
multiplex, a small flashlight and my keys. Those pirates better not mess with
me. Got up to the bow where there was a bit of a wafting wind, and wanted to
cool off, so I sat down, unbuttoned my shirt and let God admire His handiwork.
Felt a bit like the Little Mermaid, or like pirate Mary Read, who, disguised as
a man, killed another man in a duel. As he lay dying, she ripped her blouse open
so he could see, to add insult to fatal injury, that the man who had killed him
was a woman.

Day. Visual on a warship,
looked like a destroyer or light cruiser, broad to starboard, #101 on her bow.
A white chopper with black doors on her aft deck. Couldn’t make out her flag as
it was fouled, but it appeared to have orange and black in it. Belgian, German?

This is Pirate Central,
where the Gulf of Aden joins the Red Sea, from about 12°12.5’ N., 45°47.5’ E.,
to 13°08.4’ N., 43°05.9’ E., between Somalia
and Yemen.
Collected some Genuine Pirate Water up on the bow at 12°24’ N., 44°16’ E., and
put it in a bottle. Maybe I can sell it on E-Bay.

On the bridge, looking at
our computer chart with AIS ship names and positions on it. Big cluster of
ships ahead, so dense you can’t read the names. Feels like we’re at the back of
the pack in the Indy 500. Shipping lanes are marked on the charts here so the
pirates know where we’ll be. Still no sign of any. EU warship out of sight
broad to port, six miles out; visibility poor, lots of haze. British by the
sound of their radio calls. Nice to know they’re out there. Two choppers flew
by as well.

16:00 to 20:00 pirate
watch. It’s Rhonda’s 43rd birthday so I took her watch. Over an
hour’s time, half a dozen very small launches, in ones and twos, sped toward us
and tried to keep pace. None could, and they all fell away. There were two or
three guys in each boat, no room for more, or for any artillery bigger than a
shotgun; more then that and the recoil would capsize them. I was told they were
fishermen. Fishermen? Drug runners? Or pirate scouts? They didn’t look like
fishing boats; no room for any real gear or fish. The fishing boats around here
are bigger, enough for five or six guys and a reasonably sizable catch, thirty
feet long at least. These were much smaller. And if they were fishing boats,
I’m Prince William.

I called their positions
in to the bridge, from the forward catwalk on the bow. It’s between the forward
mooring station bulkhead and the first row of containers, you get a good view
to port or starboard, and it’s well protected. It was exciting, running back
and forth on the catwalk to check both sides, and not scary.

They didn’t fire at us so
technically we weren’t under attack. But were they pirates or drug runners or joyriding
fishermen? Why would fishermen do that? Exciting anyway. Chased by pirates!

Night. The half moon,
sunken yellow, dissolved into the murky mist. “Hover in the fog and filthy
air.” Macbeth, I.i.

Looking
for Pirates

Looking for
pirates is all fun and games

Till
somebody stubs their big toe

It swells up
and falls off

Needs a
dolly to haul off

And no one
listens to your tale of woe

But now
there’s a space

In the
missing place

To smuggle
in jewels from Colombo (Sri Lanka)

Looking for
pirates is all fun and games

Till
somebody stubs their big toe

Oh, it’s all
part of looking for pirates

For pirates!
For pirates!

And you
can’t find a pirate

With all of
your parts (2X)

Looking for
pirates is all fun and games

Till
somebody jams their pinky

The pain
never leaves

And you
can’t believe

So much hurt
from something so dinky

Put on some
ice

And it feels
so nice

And fixes
you up in a twinky

Looking for
pirates is all fun and games

Till
somebody jams their pinky

Chorus

Looking for
pirates is all fun and games

Till
somebody loses their tummy

You can’t go
aloft

‘Cause it
ticks people off

Sending down
something that was so yummy

The pirates
say, “Judy,

Cut throats
and take booty,

And then you
won’t feel so crummy.”

Looking for
pirates is all fun and games

Till
somebody loses their tummy

With thanks
to Don Freed and Tom Lewis

6/21/10

Was needle gunning
on the flying bridge and the needles went through a small hole in the metal and
got stuck. Took our biggest deckie to haul it out, after half an hour of
everyone else trying. Haven’t had anything stuck that tight since I was a
virgin.

6/22/10

The more I see of
the world, the less I believe in the necessity of war. It is a terrible thing,
and there are enough terrible things in the world without it.

6/23/10

Suez
Canal. The Egyptian pilot made little paper boats out of his
piloting papers when he was through with them. Charming and sweet.

The Med is an
incredibly deep crisp blue, and visibility is clear and excellent, after the
haze and murk of Sandyland, aka the Mideast.
Looks like the Pacific on a fine day.

Watchstanders never
get a full night’s sleep, and with call out from 01:30 to 05:45, then bridge
watch from 07:45 to 11:45, you carry a layer of weariness that fluctuates,
increases or decreases, but never goes fully away. And then there is the
boredom of long, uneventful watches; sometimes an entire four hour watch goes
by without a ship sighting or significant change in the weather.

*******************Sent
6/26/10*****************

___________________________________________________________

6/25/10

08:00. Captain just
came to the bridge in a sweatshirt and his jammie bottoms.

Was actually cool
on the bridge last night. Felt like getting a sweater. Hooray! Normal weather.

08:45. Captain, in
jeans, just brought a roll of paper towels to the bridge. “Rhonda delegated me
for sanitary; ‘Are you going to the bridge? Could you take this up for me,
please?’” Don’t know anybody but Rhonda who could get any captain to do that.
She turns on the sweet southern charm (she’s from Louisiana) and men, particularly captains,
melt like butter in her hands.

6/26/10

Republicans never
raise taxes. They impose:

Additional Fees

Surcharges

Mandatory Donations

Increased Library Fines

Etc.

6/27/10

Ship names: Gisela Oldend, Cielo di Vancouver, Adventure
of the Seas.

Don’t know why it
is, but I never get tired of looking at the ocean. Well, sometimes. But hardly
ever. Good thing for a watch stander.

Back on the Barbary Coast. Very quiet these days. Pirates all went
south.

Boats has a maroon
knit cap that makes him look exactly like a bag lady. I go into hysterics
whenever I see him wearing it.

6/28/10

Our big deckie
opened a watertight door that had a lot of pressure behind it and it shot open
and banged him up. Don’t know if he opened it properly, from the hinge side
out, or not. He’s been coming to watch with a big sack of ice and a pillow.
First his tummy, now this. Being big and strong doesn’t make you invincible,
especially against steel; when flesh and blood meets steel, steel wins. Always.

A heroic ship name:
Alexander the Great. Passed a cruise
ship, Adventure of the Seas. Don’t
know what her registry was.

In the US and Europe,
VHF Channel 16 is the emergency and first contact frequency, to be used only
when necessary. In the Med and Mideast, it’s
an open party line, for anyone to say anything, including love letters and
insults to someone’s mother.

6/29/10

38°09.8’ N.,
15°12.2 W.

North
Atlantic

Course: 293°

Speed: 20 kt.

Temp.:69° F.

Wind: 27 kt.

Out through Gibraltar yesterday morning, but the Rock was hidden in
haze. Nice then, gray and choppy in the evening. Lots cooler. Nice again today.
Welcome back to the North Atlantic. Heading
west to the New World and home. Thought of my
mother’s people, Irish Catholics heading for Canada
in 1835 in one of the potato famine coffin ships, and of my father’s folks from
Ukraine,
Jews fleeing the pogroms in 1906, over in steerage on the S.S. Amerika, Hamburg-America Lines. They left everything behind,
not that there was much to leave, except that it was home, and sailed to the New World. They didn’t know what would be there for them,
didn’t speak the language, but they came. Dad’s people saw the Statue of
Liberty and went through Ellis Island. So will
I, soon. It’s the same trip.

6/29/10

Off the Azores. Saw three or four whales along the starboard
side. Looked like finbacks. First cetaceans this trip.

6/30/10

40°39.4’ N.

25°19.5’ W.

Course: 286°

Speed: 18 kt.

Temp.: 72°

Wind: 40 kt., over
port bow

09:15. Overcast,
bit of a chop with whitecaps. Went out on the flying bridge to check
temperature. I love standing out in the wind. Don’t know if we’ll be able to
chip on the flying bridge this afternoon. Pretty blowy. Might have to lash
myself to something to keep from blowing away.

17:00. Didn’t blow
away after all and didn’t need lashing down, though a few knots more would have
made it iffy.

20:00. Rain and
fog; visibility about one and a half miles. Wind more insistent and starting to
howl.

7/1/10

42°05.03’
N.

34°41.01’
W.

Course:
277°

Speed:
20.kt.

Temp.: 64°

Wind: 20
kt., over the starboard bow

Much nicer.
Few clouds out, no whitecaps. Visibility good. Perfect Seattle weather. Looks like our weather
system from last night went south. Maybe the first tropical storm of the
season? Where we were, between the Azores and
the Canaries, is where hurricanes start. Wonder what we’ll get this year.

Signed my
official discharge papers today; sixty-three days of sea time. Another two
month trip and I qualify for SUP health insurance.

One can get
cut off from things out here, but now that is by choice, not necessity. Before
GPS and e-mail, before satellite phones, before radio and radar, a ship’s only
communication with land was with letters sent via any homeward bound ship they
met, which could take months to arrive. And not all ships made it back.
Sometimes you literally sailed away forever, with no word of what happened. Now
you can actually keep your life going ashore, pay bills, keep in touch with
family and friends, etc. But it’s not the same as being there. Will be home
soon.

Went out on
the starboard bridge wing. Sunny and excellent, salt air in the breeze, bright
water in the sun astern. But even so, the ocean is always trying to kill you,
and the waters are cold out here. I looked over the bridge wing and said, “Not
this time,” to the North Atlantic. “Not this
time.”

Cold
Stone Below

Off shore, granite
cliffs, and there is

Cold stone
below

Curl of hot
bacon crisp

Pancake
flipper swipes

Off to paint
the deck this morn

But a
thousand meters down

Is cold
water, cold stone,

Cold stone
below

Celebrate
the summer, celebrate July

Dine outside
in the salt and freshing air

But do not
celebrate the cold stone below

Tie up safe
and home

No more
granite cliffs

And raise a
glass to sailors

But do not
think too much

Of the still
tomb that waits

On cold
stone below

7/2/10

42°43.1 N.

44°47.8 W.

Course:
272°

Speed: 19
kt.

Temp.:70°

Wind: 30
kt. over the port bow

08:00. Haze,
about six miles visibility, but cumulous clouds breaking up overhead, and
patches of blue sky. No one out here but us for two days, no radar contacts. We
were equi-distant from NY and Gibraltar
yesterday, so I told the Chief Engineer, “Hey! We’re in the middle of the
ocean!” Literally.

09:00.
Visibility down to one to two miles.

Two
officers were griping over their union’s hiring policy; neither has a
permanently assigned ship. Oh, insecurity! Hell, they’ve got jobs and get paid
more than I do. Go live in Sudan
awhile, guys, and shut up. Or go be unemployed and live on food stamps and food
bank food in the US.
That is starvation in the long, drawn out way; there’s little nutrition in
stuff that’s past its shelf life and fruits and veggies about to go bad. Or
live on junk food. Potato chips are cheap. Why do you think the people in third
world countries are always trying to sell you things? They’re hungry. Can’t say
this stuff to those who out-rank me; I’d be cited for insubordination.

23:45. Got
some condensed water from a glass on the bridge wing, gathered from the Grand
Banks fog that was coming over our starboard bow tonight, 43°52’ N., 50°24’ W.
Put it in a bottle, and now you can put the bottle in the microwave and voilá!
It turns back into fog! I’ll sell it on E-bay. Now everyone can have their very
own vial of Genuine Grand Banks Fog, the thickest soup in the world.

7/3/10

42°23.1’ N.

55°50’ W.

Course:
260°

Speed: 20
kt.

Temp.:
58.4°

Wind: 14
kt. over the starboard bow

I try to
treat everybody equally, maybe too equally for the hierarchy on a ship. Too
democratic for my own good. But everybody is important here, from the Steward’s
Assistant to the Skipper. All jobs are important; they are magnified out here,
from cleaning the head to steering the proper course. I do not like snob
hierarchies, and they really have no place on a ship. As I say, it’s about
respect. I give little deference to place per se; I have courtesy and respect according
to personal and professional admiration for quality and performance. And when I
can’t do that, good manners are also good policy.

7/4/10

Happy
Fourth of July!

41°00’ N.

66°29’ W.

Course:
261°

Speed: 20
kt.

Temp.: 69°

Wind: 30
kt. over port bow

08:00.
Sunny, some haze on horizon. End of voyage and some nerves are frazzled; step
lightly. As for me, I have pen and paper, and am happy. Saw land on the chart
marked “United States of
America” and smiled. The Maersk Kokura is still 38 miles ahead.
Been chasing her since Suez.
Wonder if we’ll tie up anywhere near each other.

Scheduled
to pick up pilot at 04:00 tomorrow and tie up around 06:30. Then Coast Guard
COI inspection and payoff. Hope to get off ship by early afternoon.

09:30.
Dolphins to port and a small pod of finback whales to starboard. First of these
cetaceans this trip. Hooray!

7/9/10

Signed off
on July 5th, am back home, and will be sending this last log from Seattle. Please do not
send any more correspondence to my ship e-mail, as I won’t get it. Do send any
comments to my regular e-mail, wjoseph924@gmail.com Hope you enjoyed these scribblings; will be
sending more when I ship out again.

Blog Archive

About Me

Wendy Joseph vies with her characters for a life of romance and adventure. A deckhand on merchant ships, she has outrun pirates off of Somalia, steered ships large and small through typhoons and calms from the Bering Sea to Shanghai, and helped rescue seals on the Pacific coast. Believing history must be lived, she has crewed the 18th century square-rigger Lady Washington, the steamer Virginia V,the WWII freighter SS Lane Victory, and the moored battleship USS Iowa. She has shared her food with Third World workers and starving cats. A musician, she sings sea shanties, her songs, and with classical and medieval choirs. Her passion is for works of the imagination, for telling a really good story, and for connecting with the minds and souls of readers and taking them to a magnificent and finer place. Researching The Witch’s Hand In France, she traced the paths of her characters over the terrain they covered to get the description right, and dug up old documents for historical accuracy. She holds two Master’s in English and can splice a twelve strand line. Her plays Gargoyles, The Hamlet Interview, Oil in the Sound and Booking Hold were produced to acclaim in Seattle; she won a Bad Hemingway contest, and appeared in the movie Singles. Ashore she holds court with her cats Jean Lafitte and Bijou in the wilds of Washington State.